


Nuance of the Heart

by kaleinope



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, M/M, Malec, Maybe some angst, Saphael, Set in the sixties, Seventh year, Sorry Not Sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-05 02:15:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6685183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaleinope/pseuds/kaleinope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“Magnus. Bane. You knew that.”</em>
  <br/>
  <em>“What do you want, Bane?”</em>
  <br/>
  <em>“I was going to offer my help, but heaven forbid a Lightworm should stoop to needing others.”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>It's 1966, and Alec Lightwood is just trying to survive his final year at Hogwarts. It isn't exactly as easy as he'd hoped; the student tutoring him in Charms <em>hates him</em> for no apparent reason, and- oh- there's the small matter of the entire wizarding world suspecting his family of being involved in <em>unspeakable</em> Dark Arts.<br/>Simon Lewis, however, seems to be attracting the attention of the Head Boy, like he always wanted. The year ahead of him looks positively bright. Or, so he thinks, anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. For the Record

**Author's Note:**

> Here it (finally) is: the Hogwarts AU!  
> My goodness, I've poured my entire soul into this thing. I'm drained xD This is still so fun to write, though.  
> Enjoy!

_...The_ _House of_ _Lightwood is associated with some of the best witches and wizards of the past millennia. Generations of aurors,_ _authors, and incredibly competent Ministry officials, the Lightwoods could be said to be admired by all._

_But what dark secret is this family hiding? Robert Lightwood, of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, refused to comment this past weekend on the recent string of muggle-born wizard disappearances. This prompted me to act on my suspicion. It's a little known fact that the Lightwood family name is not, in fact, untainted. Delving into their past has brought a very particular Lightwood to light: Benedict Lightwood. Driven by an egotistical pure-blood mentality, he murdered hundreds of muggles and muggle-borns in cold blood...[details page 12]_

_Could the Lightwood family be behind the disappearances? Family history indicates, now, that they certainly might not be above this kind of atrocity. Perhaps it is not in our best interests to trust families of wealth and high status. Perhaps we shoul..._

_\- Paul Crestfellowe, The Daily Prophet_

* * *

 

Fat drops of rain pelted against the train windows, creating rivulets along the thick glass. Alec leaned his forehead against the cool pane and watched the rain pour, mostly tuning out the Head Boy's voice. His mind drifted, and he found himself contemplating the year ahead.

His seventh year at Hogwarts. The final year, before he went out into the wizarding world and made a difference, just like his parents wanted him to. He hadn't been made Head Boy- that honour had been given to someone else- and he had to admit, he felt bitter about that. His father had been head boy, when he'd gone to Hogwarts. He wasn't impressed that Alec had been overlooked because his _Charms_ marks weren't up to standard. Still, Alec consoled himself with the fact that he'd made prefect again, at least.

“Lightwood!” The Head Boy in question was cutting into Alec's thoughts, which he did _not_ appreciate. He had to fight a scowl as he lifted his forehead from the window. “Are you listening?”

“Yes.” Alec muttered.

“Then what did I say?”

“Some snide comment about my brother, I'm sure.” Alec jostled his box of Every Flavour Beans; a suspiciously green bean landed in his palm, which he offered to Lily. “Yes, I'll keep him in check, Raphael. But it's not easy when he's in a different _House_.”

“Just make sure he doesn't set anything alight this year.” Raphael muttered. Silently, Alec felt smug. Raphael was still clearly bitter over the _'_ incident _'_ ; a well-timed hex on Jace's side had left Raphael with singed-off eyebrows for _months_.

He maintained his apathetic expression and said, “I'll do that.”

Next to him, Lily gagged.

“Gross,” she muttered, pulling a face. “I've yet to actually find a flavour I like.” she took the sweets from his hands. “Give me another one.”

“I just got blueberry.” Alec mumbled around his own sweet.

Lily popped a yellow bean into her mouth. “Oh,” she said, “butter.”

Alec and Lily hated prefect meetings; generally, they did whatever they could to avoid listening to the Head Boy and Girl drone on and on about things they already knew. It wasn't that they weren't dedicated to their roles as prefects, it was… well, Alec didn't always enjoy being a prefect. But that didn't mean he abused the role, or took it lightly.

Bertie Botts aside.

“Honestly, you two. Pay attention.” Catarina, one of the Hufflepuff prefects, leaned forward in her seat to take the candy from them. Alec tried not to feel like a scolded first year.

“Thank you, Catarina.” Raphael nodded in her direction.

“Mhm,” Catarina's mouth was occupied with a handful of candied beans. Raphael rolled his eyes.

“Is the meeting over yet?” a bored sixth year prefect was asking.

“I'd say so.” Lily said. “He's been droning on for hours. Sit down, Raphael.”

Raphael lowered himself into his seat, barely flinching as the carriage jostled over the tracks. In his position, Alec might've fallen onto his face, but Raphael's movements were always unbelievably fluid and easy.

Alec took note of things like that.

“Does anyone want to see the spell I learnt this holiday?” Catarina rolled up her robe sleeves, wand already being twirled between her slender fingers.

“Is this one going to turn everyone in the carriage blue?” Alec shifted forward and rested his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together.

“That was _one time._ ”

“The spell, Catarina. Any day now.”

“Right.” Catarina cleared her throat and flicked her wrist, brandishing her wand at the window. “ _Adp_ _ispecto_.”

“What's supposed to- _oh_.” Lily's jaw dropped. The rain they'd been watching through the window vanished; instead, their view was now of a field in springtime. An expanse of green that was too calm, and too perfect.

“You created a fake view?” Alec said. “That's fairly impressive. Not the most useful of spells around, but it's pretty.”

“Your flattery is boundless, Alec.” Catarina tucked her wand behind her ear, where it usually sat when there were no professors around. “ _I_ think it's a lovely spell. No more gloomy rain.”

“Except, we can still hear it.”

“Where did you learn the spell?” Raphael was sitting up straighter, his curiosity piqued.

“My mother. I can teach it to y-”

“I think I've figured it out.” Raphael was mimicking Catarina's hand movement from when she'd cast the spell; the view of the fields switched to one of the ocean. They watched as grey waves lapped against a rocky beach.

“Huh.” Catarina stared out of the window, visibly impressed.

“Look, I did it better.”

“No, this is just gloomy again.” Catarina frowned and flicked her wand, trying to remedy the view. Nothing changed; the image of the beach was there to stay. “How'd you-”

“I like the sea.” was all Raphael said. “I'm not going to let you change it back.”

“You're such a prick.”

* * *

 

“This way, first years.” Alec lead a gaggle of wide-eyed students out of the Great Hall. They were all practically half his size; Alec marvelled at the fact that he'd been that small, once. It didn't seem possible.

He tried hard not to seem too intimidating, as he lead the first years through to the viaduct entrance- but it seemed that the youngest students were terrified of the prefects, on principle. Add this to the fact that Alec was bordering on two meters tall, and you had yourself a group of petrified eleven year olds. One of them looked about ready to cry- Alec felt he should say something, but couldn't think what. He didn't get the chance to conjure up a pathetic attempt at reassurance; just before they reached the spiral staircase, his brother appeared.

“You look a right mess.” Jace said, by way of greeting. “All peaky and shit. Oop, excuse the language.” his gaze slid towards the group of children pointedly.

“I just need some sleep. And tuck in your shirt.” Alec said. “If mum saw you now, she'd faint.”

Jace made a point of _not_ doing that. Instead, he loosened his tie, to look even more dishevelled.

“Why're they all staring at me like that?” he asked.

Alec glanced over his shoulder and sighed. “Well, you're...”

“I'm a Gryffindor, yes.” Jace addressed the nearest first year. “I'm not going to _eat_ you. Or maybe I am. Maybe you _should_ be terrified.”

“Alright, when you're _done_ terrorizing the new students,” Alec frowned, “are you going to tell me what you wanted?”

“Can't I just say hello to my big brother?”

“Jace.”

“I wanted to remind you to meet Clary and I at the Lake, tomorrow afternoon.” Jace said. “Izzy, too.”

“Yes, we know. We won't forget.” Alec shooed Jace away from the stairs impatiently. “Now, if you don't mind.”

“Fine, slither back into your dungeon.” Jace teased. He strolled away from Alec, hands carelessly thrust into his pockets. “And don't forget to tell the little ones about the boggarts under their beds!”

“He's lying.” Alec reassured them. “Boggarts don't stay under _beds_.”

A little girl with mousy brown pigtails just about fainted.

* * *

 

Monday mornings meant Charms with the Ravenclaws, which, truthfully, put Alec in a horrid mood. On this particular day they were expected to perform a fairly advanced charm, without actual words. This was supposed to have been within their capabilities by the end of sixth year- and, yet, Alec was still struggling. He hated unspoken charms, _so very much_.

“Excuse me.” someone said. Alec thwacked his wand against the desk in frustration, turning in his seat to glare at whoever had decided to interrupt.

“Don't burst a vein. Jesus.” It was the student behind him- some Ravenclaw Alec couldn't quite remember the name of. They'd had class together for years, but, somehow, Alec hadn't bothered to take _too_ much notice of him. Alec tended to overlook people he didn't know, or didn't care to know. His name might have been Malcolm, but Alec had a feeling it was something more obnoxious than that.

“Can I help you?” Alec asked, stiffly.

“I was going to ask you the same question.” Possibly-Malcom said. “If you stare any harder at your wand you may combust, Lightworm.”

Alec bristled. “Who are you, again?”

“Magnus,” the boy said, running his fingers through his spiked hair as if the styled hairdo helped affirm his identity. “Bane. You knew that.”

The name _was_ familiar- Alec recalled hearing it, before. “What do you want, Bane?”

Magnus had _very_ piercing green eyes; Alec tried not to squirm under his gaze. It took all his strength to keep his eyes level with Magnus's, to keep his expression passive and stoic. The beginnings of a blush was pressing at Alec just beneath the surface. He fought against the tell-tale warmth in his cheeks.

“I was going to offer my help, but heaven forbid a Lightworm should stoop to _needing others_.” Magnus was inspecting his nails with a sudden interest. Alec noticed that he'd painted them a glittery black, and the polish was starting to chip.

“We have a uniform policy, you know.” Alec stated.

“Oh? _Really_?” Magnus feigned shock. “God, I had no idea.” His eyes flitted to Alec's shining prefect badge. “You going to dock points off Ravenclaw, are you?"

Alec wasn't about to give Magnus that kind of satisfaction. He clearly expected Alec to try and abuse his power.

“No.” he said, and turned in his seat, intent on ignoring the other boy for the rest of the period. Thankfully, Magnus didn't bother him again.

Alec eventually succeeded in conjuring a small bird into existence, but the bird couldn't fly.

* * *

 

“He called me _Lightworm_.” Alec's tone was bitter as he paged through his Potions textbook with more ferocity than was needed. “I mean, the nerve of it.”

“Alec, so many students hate us just because they think they're meant to.” Isabelle told him. “It's never bothered you before. Why's Bane getting under your skin so much?”

“He doesn't even _know_ me.” Alec said. “And the way he spoke to me- just-” he made a frustrated noise and ended up unintentionally tearing a page in his book.

“I can't believe you don't know him.” Izzy shook her head. “You've had class together for close to seven years. How blind are you?”

“I don't normally pay attention to students in other Houses.” Alec muttered. It wasn't that he felt he was above them- it was actually quite the contrary. He kept to himself and the people he knew to avoid rejection, or judgement, or embarrassment. Which was why people like Magnus peeved him; he hadn't given Magnus any _actual_ reason to hate him. Had he?

“And maybe that's your problem.”

“That I keep to myself?”

“You could come across as hostile.” Isabelle offered.

“Please.” Alec snapped his book shut when he saw Jace ambling towards them, accompanied by two people. Alec recognised them as Clary, Jace's sort-of girlfriend, and Simon (who was Clary's friend, Alec reckoned. He was never entirely sure, and he wasn't inclined to ask).

“I'm just saying, it doesn't look like art to me.” Alec heard Jace arguing, as they got closer, “It's just a can of soup.”

“It's called Pop Art, Jace.” Clary said. She was clutching some kind of muggle tabloid to her chest.

“Whatever.” Jace sighed. “Seems naff to me.”

“It's about consumerism-”

“ _Enough_ about the American art, I'm begging you.” Jace settled into the grass next to his siblings, and pulled the disgruntled redhead into his lap. Clary huffed and slid out of his embrace.

“Lover's spat?” Alec asked.

“The usual spat.” Simon answered for the other two. He was still standing, and his gaze was trained on the lake. Alec tried to see what he was seeing, but all that met his eyes was a dark expanse of water.

“Ah.”

“You look more sour than usual, today.” Jace commented, picking up on Alec's mood like he always tended to do.

“Do you ever get called _Lightworm_?”

“Me? No.” Jace said. “That's a new one.”

“Hang on,” Simon looked down at Alec. His nose was scrunched and his eyebrows were furrowed. “Magnus?” Simon posed the name in the form of a question.

“Yes.” Alec sat up straighter. “How'd you-”

“He's the only one that uses that, er, 'nickname'.” Simon's gaze shifted uneasily. “He also hates you, to put it lightly.”

“Why.”

“I don't know him _that_ well,” Simon twisted the toe of his shoe into the dirt. “He's in my House, but he's a year above me. He's friends with Raphael.”

“Well that explains _everything_.” It didn't, not really, but Raphael didn't like Alec too much- so, by extension, his friends probably weren't very fond of Alec, either. It almost made Alec want to prove Magnus wrong- to _prove_ he was capable of being a friend, of being a lovely person. To treat Magnus like he treated those close to him.

Almost.

* * *

 

“I'm not letting you copy my Charms homework.” Lily held the parchment against her chest, refusing to hand it over. “No. Not today.”

“Come _on_ , Lily.” Alec was all but pleading. Lily shook her head, her sleek hair whipping against her cheeks. The dark shine of her hair was reflecting the greenish glow of the common room, and made it look like her hair was dyed a dark emerald (Alec wasn't going to comment on this- he knew it would just give her ideas).

“You have to do it yourself, sometimes.”

It was true. Alec needed to turn his _A_ into an _O_ , and he wasn't going to be able to do that if he kept leeching off of Lily. Then again, he just wasn't in the mood to frustrate himself with hours and hours of homework that he hated.

“Let me use your homework, and I'll take over your prefect duties for tonight.” Alec promised.

Lily considered it. “...Fine.” she said, after a minute. “Have fun patrolling the dungeons.”

“Thank god.” Alec kissed her cheek swiftly and pried the parchment from her reluctant fingers. He set it against the low table and started making notes on his own paper, quill scratching out words in rapid movements.

“Merlin, you're impossible.” Lily curled her legs up onto the armchair, wrapping her arms around her knees. “I think it's time you get a Charms tutor.”

“What about y-”

“ _No_.” Lily raised a finger, cut him off. “I'm also only getting an _A_ , Alec. I'm not teaching you.”

“Who do you suggest, then?”  
“Well, the best student in class is Magnus. Maybe you should-”

“If I hear that name one more time today, I swear.” Alec's quill slipped from his fingers. “ _You_ know him, too?”

“Yes.” Lily raised an eyebrow. “We don't all live in a bubble like you.”

“You didn't see how he spoke to me in class today? He _hates_ me.”

“He doesn't necessarily have to like you. Bribe him, or something.”

“With what?” Alec rolled his eyes.

“Your body.” Lily winked at him, tongue sticking out between her teeth.

“He'd sooner hex me, I'm sure.” Alec sighed.

“Have you seen him? He's almost better looking than Raphael.”

“Mhm.” Alec agreed mildly.

“I say you go for it.”

“I'll ask him if he's willing to tutor me, if you think I should. But it's going to be a no.”

Lily scooted forward and rummaged through the pocket of Alec's robe. Her fingers found purchase on something and she gasped.

“You had _toffees,_ all this time.” she accused. “You've been holding out on me!”

“I'm starting to think our friendship is purely based on the candy you steal from me.”

“Astute.” Lily popped one of the toffees into her mouth. “By the way,” her words came out thick, muffled by the sweet, “have you been reading the _Prophet_?” she reached for the newspaper lying on the table.

Alec sighed and tried not to press too hard with his quill, “Yes.”

“This whole muggle-born thing is ridiculous.” she mumbled, thumbing through the paper. “I mean, whoever's doing this _has_ to realise that pure-bloods are a dying breed. Right?”

Lily often made comments like this; the Chens were a half-blood family.

“I don't think the person cares, Lily. They're clearly mental.”

“Yeah. It's also daft that they're dragging your family name through the mud-”

“It's practically a gossip column. It doesn't matter.” Alec's quill had made a hole in his parchment. “I don't feel like talking about it.”

The newspaper was thrown into the fireplace.

* * *

 

The NEWTs were still months and months away, but Alec knew he needed to spend most of his free time studying, regardless. When he wasn't caught up with Quidditch practice, he forced himself to go to the library and study for hours on end. The quiet, stuffy atmosphere did wonders for his concentration.

He was just looking up the rarest of potions ingredients in a thick, dusty tome, when he heard a rustle of robes and the scrape of a chair that indicated someone had decided to sit beside him. He lifted his head, and met the bright green eyes of Magnus Bane.

“Heard you were looking for me.” Magnus kicked his feet up onto the table. Alec resisted the urge to shove them off; his shoes were dangerously close to Alec's notes.

“You did?” Alec returned his attention to the book, trying to pretend that he didn't care- that this stupidly handsome prick that supposedly hated him _wasn't_ getting on his nerves.

“Simon told me you need a tutor, and that you were thinking of asking me. I've _seen_ how terrible you are at Charms. I'm inclined to say yes.”

“You are?” Alec lifted his gaze to Magnus's, regrettably letting the other see how surprised (and relieved) he felt.

Magnus grimaced, “Maybe.”

“Look, I'll do whatever you want.” Alec said, without pause, “I really need this help. My parents expect me to get straight _O's_ , and-”

“Okay, I didn't ask for your life story.”

“So...you'll do it?”

“I suppose so.” Magnus sighed. “I just hope you're not _completely_ useless.”

“Thank you. Um,” Alec pressed his lips into a thin line,“I just… well. Why...”

“What?”

“Why do you hate me so much?”

“What makes you say that, Lightworm?”

Alec was itching to hex the cocky smirk right off of Magnus's (stunningly high cheek-boned) face.

 


	2. Side B, Press Play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhh I'm sorry updates are so slow, everyone! I'm nearing exams, so I am such a ball of stress at the moment. University is no joke.  
> I'm going to try update The Gray Area by the end of the week, I promise, but there's just so much going on right now.  
> Anywayy~  
> Enjoy!

Ever since he was a young boy, Simon believed in things he couldn't see.

Basically, yes: this meant he believed in God (his mum took him to the Synagogue every Saturday. He didn't mind it). But he also believed in faeries and magic and things from storybooks that weren't _actually_ supposed to exist.

When he was six years old, he spent a whole morning digging in the garden, looking for the gnome he was _so sure_ he'd seen just a few days prior. His mother had been furious when she'd found her vegetable patch in ruins and her son covered head to toe in mud.

At nine years old, Simon was fairly sure he had powers of some sort, because of several incidents. The lamp in his bedroom had turned itself on one night, while Simon was on the other side of the room. He'd gotten into a fight with his sister, and a day later, Rebecca woke up with her hair in massive knots (their mum had had to chop Rebecca's hair off into an incredibly short pageboy cut). Simon had laughed so hard at breakfast the next morning that milk had shot out of his nose and hit the wall across the room- which he was certain served as another indication of his powers, but his sister assured him that it was just disgusting, not magical. His family convinced him to give up on his ridiculous notions, which he did.

Until he got his letter from Hogwarts.

To say he was happy was an understatement- he was _overjoyed_. Everything was real- everything he believed, all the things he hadn't been able to see, but had been desperate to see- it was real. There was a part of the world that Simon was now included in; a _magical world._

And he'd be damned if he wasn't going to see and experience every last bit of that world.

* * *

 

“What in Merlin's name is _that_?”

“It's a cassette player.” Simon explained, as he adjusted his earphones. “A portable one. It-”

“It's like...a radio?” Jace's nose was scrunching in that confused, 'what is wrong with muggle culture', kind of way.

“Yes, except it plays tapes.”

“Tapes?”

Simon gave up and pressed the 'play' button on his device. “It's used to block out the sound of idiots, like you.”

“You think you're so clever, Lewis.”

“Sorry, what? I can't hear you.”

“He's smug now,” Jace turned to Clary, who was flipping through a glossy magazine, “but wait until I hex all the hair off his head.”

“Try not to knock points off of Gryffindor before the term's even _started_ , Jace.” Clary's tone was bored.

“I think I could pull off bald.” Simon said, over the sounds of The Rolling Stones.

“Want to test it out?” Jace's wand (which he kept god knows where- possibly up his sleeve) was in his hand, and he pointed it calmly in Simon's direction.

“On second thought, I think I'd like to avoid being called 'Chrome Dome' by you everyday.”

“You ruin my fun.” Jace sighed and tapped his wand against his own knee.

Clary rolled up her magazine and leaned forward in her seat to swat at Simon's arm.

“What?” he complained.

“Headphones, off.” she said. “Don't be antisocial.”

Simon lowered the earphones, so that they hung around his neck. “Bossy.” he opted to stare out of the train window and watch the passing scenery. They were travelling through the countryside; a sight which Simon had missed.

“How do you think this year's going to be?” Clary asked.

“I, for one, am looking forward to all the free periods.” Jace said.

“Those periods are for studying.” Simon shifted his gaze back to the other boy, who pulled a face at him.

“We can't all be square, Simon.”

“Are you teaching him slang, again?” Simon directed this at Clary, pointing at Jace in an accusatory fashion. “You are, aren't you?”

“Does it matter?” Clary said. “Anyway, we're going to work hard this year.” she insisted, speaking for both her and Jace.

“Right.” Jace snorted.

A lot of the time, Jace acted like he didn't care about academics. Lucky for him, he was smarter than he looked- and managed to pass with barely any effort (this irritated Simon). There was a strong possibility that he'd pursue a career in Quidditch, anyway, which was why all of his energy was directed towards the sport.

“Invest more time in homework instead of your relationship, this year.” Simon suggested. The year before, Clary and Jace had been altogether _too_ absorbed in one another.

“Speaking of. Are you still seeing Maia?” Jace asked.

“He isn't.” Clary answered for him. “Besides, he's got his eye on someone else. Don't you, Simon?”

Simon felt his ears go red (the nasty traitors. He could've played it off, but _no_. He just had to blush).

“Maybe.” he said.

“You've fancied him for _ages_ , Simon. Just admit it.”

“Who?” Jace demanded.

“Raphael Santiago.” Clary sang; Simon gave her a nasty look, to which she simply laughed.

“The Head Boy?” Jace grinned. “Dark, pompous arses your type, then, Simon?”

Simon sighed and put his headphones back on.

He didn't have to explain it to Jace, of all people. Didn't have to tell him about his unrequited feelings. Didn't have to describe how he'd been admiring Raphael from afar for all these years, how Raphael barely even realized that he existed.

He kicked his feet up onto the seat and closed his eyes, focused on Mick Jagger's voice- which, honestly, was a lot better to listen to than Jace.

* * *

 

' _Ashrays, Asrais or Water Lovers:_

_Translucent water spirits that can be found in the calmest, most unsullied of water bodies. These elusive creatures are oft mistaken for ghosts of the sea. If one gazes into a clear lake under the light of the moon, one may spot the visage of an ashray below. If one finds oneself able to capture this small spirit, one must be sure to keep it from the sunlight, as--'_

“What are you reading?” The book was plucked from Simon's hands. He startled and looked up into the face of his Head Boy, who was paging through the book with a mild sort of interest. Mostly, though, his expression conveyed boredom. His eyebrows were upturned, his mouth a straight line. Simon was simultaneously frustrated by and attracted to that expression.

“ _Rare_ _Magical_ _Creatures of Scotland_ by Morven Muir Munroe.” Simon recited. He wasn't sure why Raphael was showing any kind of interest in what he was doing- he only talked to Simon when he had to (“Professor Garroway is looking for you, Lewis” or “your hair looks appalling today- straighten up”), and even then, it was brief.

“Am I in your seat?” Simon realized that this may have been reason enough for Raphael to be talking to him. He started to shift off of the grey armchair.

“No. Stay.” Raphael took a seat across from him, still paging through the book. Simon went still, eerily compelled to obey Raphael's command.

“Is this yours?” Raphael asked.

“Uh, no.” Simon pointed to the plethora of bookcases lining the walls of the common room. “I just...wanted to read something before bed.”

“And you decided on this?” Raphael was smirking, clearly amused. He glanced up at Simon, who shrugged and looked away. The blush on his face was spreading like wildfire.

“You were reading up on _Asrais._ ” Raphael mused. The way the word came from his lips made it sound more foreign, more magical. “Why?”

Simon shifted uncomfortably. “I heard a rumour.”

“A rumour?” One of Raphael's eyebrows twitched upwards.

“We've a lot of creatures in the Black Lake,” Simon looked to his left, at one of the windows- not that he could see the Lake from where he was sitting, “and someone told me that- along with the mermaids, and the grindylows, and the squid- that, er, 'ashrays' live in the lake, too.”

“And you got curious.”

“I got curious.” Simon echoed in agreement.

“You'd only be able to spot one at night.” Raphael said, tapping an illustration in the book.

“I know. I considered asking a Slytherin if they've ever seen one, through the glass in their common room...” he trailed off. “But it's just a stupid rumour, right? So there's no use in-”

“Rumour or not, it's something to look into.” Raphael shut the thick book with a snap, running a hand over the tattered leather that bound the pages. “If you're curious about it, ask around. Do your research. No one knows much about the Asrais.”

He handed the book back. Simon fumbled with the heavy tome, trying not to brush fingers with the older boy.

“Thanks.” Simon mumbled.

Raphael smiled at him, and Simon's heart catapulted into his throat and thrummed under his skin.

* * *

 

“You've been staring at the lake for too long, Lewis.”

“Hm?” Simon yanked his gaze from the deep blue of the water, and met the bright blue eyes of Alec Lightwood. “Oh, I was just...thinking.”

“Okay.” Alec didn't prod for any further information. He wasn't like his sister, who would've asked Simon a hundred different questions. As it was, Isabelle had gotten herself involved in Clary and Jace's argument over Muggle Art (Simon didn't see the appeal of Pop Art- although he understood the message behind it all. He didn't feel inclined to tell Clary this, as he wasn't in the mood for an unnecessary debate).

“Does Magnus really hate me?” Alec was asking him, in reference to their earlier conversation.

“I suppose?” Simon shrugged. “He tends to dislike Pure-Blood families- or so I've heard. Anyway. What do you care?”

“I don't.” Alec said hastily.

“Oh, you _do_ care.” Simon smirked with the realization. “Bane gets on your nerves, does he? Pushes all your buttons? Rubs you up the wrong way?”

“What are you- no.” Alec frowned, shook his head. “I mean, sort of. It _bothers_ me, is all. His attitude.” he said. His teeth were gritted, and he wouldn't look up at Simon.

“Cool it, Alec.” Simon did his best to sound reassuring. “He's not out to get you or anything.”

“How do you know that? How do you know I won't wake up in the morning with my kneecaps reversed?”

“Ah, the dreaded knee-reversal hex.” Simon nodded, with an expression of mock-solemnity. “You should watch out for that one.”

“Sod off.”

“I probably _should_ get going.” Simon got to his feet, knees clicking with the effort. “I've Potions.”

Alec nodded. “See you.” The rest of the group was too wrapped up in their argument to notice that Simon was leaving, so he sighed and turned to go.

“Try not to fall prey to any ridiculous spells.” Simon waved to Alec as he crossed the grounds, “We don't want any of your joints facing the wrong way, right?”

Simon couldn't quite make it out from where he was standing, but he was quite sure Alec flipped him the bird.

* * *

 

The water bit at his bare ankles, freezing and relentless. Simon winced as he waded into the lake, and stopped when the water swelled around his knees. Thankfully, he'd thought to roll his trousers up.

“ _Lumos,”_ he whispered to his wand, which responded immediately. The small, bright light illuminated his surroundings; he glanced down into the clear water, and watched his toes curl into the mud.

Simon caught his lower lip between his front teeth. What was he doing? He didn't have any sort of plan or theory- and yet, he was knee-deep in the Lake when he really should have been in bed, simply because he was curious.

He wondered how deep he'd have to go, to have any chance of seeing an ashray. He wondered if there was any type of spell that might help him, or if there was something he was supposed to do or say to summon one of the creatures from the depths-

“The light would scare them away, don't you reckon?”

Simon reacted to the sudden voice in the worst possible way; he jolted so badly that he lost his footing and fell backwards in the water, landing on his arse. He grimaced as his elbows sunk into the mud.

“Try not to drown.” The voice said.

Simon craned his neck back to see who it was. A very confused (upside-down, from his angle) face entered his field of vision. It was Raphael.

“Wh-what are you doing out here?” Simon asked, his lips twitching into a nervous smile.

“Funny- I was going to ask _you_ that.”

Simon got to his feet slowly, to avoid slipping and embarrassing himself further. “How did you know I was out here?”

Raphael pointed towards the Ravenclaw tower, tall and looming against the dark sky. “Saw you from the windows.” he explained. “You're not supposed to be out on the grounds at this hour.”

“Well...neither are you.” It was a feeble attempt at justifying his actions, but it was still an attempt.

Raphael sighed and cut his glance to the side. “Let's get you back indoors before you freeze, Simon.”

“Right.” Simon paused. “You...know my name?” _That_ was a surprise. He'd never heard Raphael say his first name before.

Raphael made an irritated sound and grabbed Simon by the sopping wet sleeve.

“Let's go.”

* * *

 

After a sufficiently long, piping hot shower, Simon made his way back to the common room. It was normally empty by this hour of the night, so it was no surprise when he only came across two people: Raphael and Magnus. The pair of them were engaged in a game of Wizard chess (Simon _loved_ Wizard chess. It was a million times better than Muggle chess). Simon tried to walk past them without attracting any attention.

“Wait.” Raphael said. Simon flinched and froze on the spot.

“You do realize I should deduct points from the House,” It wasn't really a question.

“I- yes.” Simon exhaled and ducked his head.

“Were you looking for _Asrais_?” Raphael sounded incredulous, but- and Simon noted this with a glimmer of hope- also mildly impressed.

Magnus scoffed. One of his chess pieces thrashed Raphael's knight, sending it in pieces across the board.

“You realize that Asrais aren't real, right?” Magnus said, twisting a glittering ring that sat on his index finger.

“How do y-”

“I've read almost every book here.” Magnus gestured around the room. “All the texts come to one conclusion: there isn't enough evidence to suggest that they're actually real.” he glanced up; Simon watched some of his dark hair come loose and tumble across his eyes. “Sorry, Sherry. I'm sure it's a real bummer.”  
“My name is- never mind.” Simon sighed. It probably wasn't the best idea to snap at a Seventh Year. “And it's all right. I was just being stupid.” He looked back to Raphael. “Ten points from Ravenclaw?”

Raphael seemed to hesitate. “...No. No one needs to know.” He ordered his Queen to move across the board before he continued: “Just go to bed. And no more late-night creature hunting.”

Simon was dumbstruck. “Oh. Oh, um, thank you.” he turned to go through the door that lead to the dormitories, but paused with his hand on the door-frame. He looked over his shoulder and said, “Good night.”

Raphael smiled at him.

Simon dreamt about that smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my tumblr.](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/kaleinope) Lotsa hugs to anyone who follows me. I blog things that I draw, and extra headcanons, etc, for the things I write. I also love to talk to all of you, so don't hesitate! I take requests/answer questions, too, so inbox me if you'd like :) <3

**Author's Note:**

> A couple of things: 1. This is set in the Sixties for very specific reasons. Inbox me if you'd like to know why, and I may reply to you directly/make a tumblr post to explain.  
> 2\. This is not a oneshot. This is going to be a multi-chapter thing because I'm more invested than I thought I'd be.  
> 3\. If you want to know how/why I decided on which Houses for each character, you can check out the posts I made on my tumblr [here](http://kaleinope.tumblr.com/) explaining it all.  
> 4\. Let me know what you think! <3


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